


Us Against the World - A Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier fanfiction.

by marshallisamonster



Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: CarolxDaryl, Death, F/M, Love, Zombies, the walking dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshallisamonster/pseuds/marshallisamonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier fanfiction based off of "The Walking Dead" by AMC.<br/>*OFFENSIVE* - This fanfiction can be found offensive in many ways, as it depicts scenes which shouldn't be read by people who find offense to the following things:<br/>-Character Death<br/>-Foul Language (including racial slurs)<br/>-Sex<br/>-Graphic Violence</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Us Against the World - A Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier fanfiction.

_"Before this, it was different, you know. But I'm glad to have found someone as amazing as you to have in this situation, Daryl."_

His response was nothing but a mere smile. I loved this man, more than anything in the world, not that there's much left of it now. He was carving a stick with a knife. The blade slid down the bark, stripping it from the stick. His eyes glistened in the bright moonlight. On top of the hood was where we did most of our talking. We like freedom.  _He_ likes freedom. There are some things I don't understand about Daryl, but I understand the connection we have. Neither of us dare to say it, but we know that we are in love. The way he holds me, when I'm upset thinking of Sophia.

There's something about him. The way he acts. The way he smiles. He has me wrapped around his finger like a ring. I first started distributing a goodconnection with Daryl near the end of our stay at Hershel's farm. We would talk at night, about our pasts. Me as a mother, and a housewife. I had always wanted to be a professional singer. He says my voice is perfect to. He was a normal country guy, graduated high school, and went into construction. There he planned buildings and bridges, that is, before the walkers came.

He says that I'm what he's been looking for. He calls me perfect, and it makes me feel bliss. And our nights spent on top of eachother are filled with happiness, and joy. 


End file.
